


So Kiss Me

by cristina_lore



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 4 times Lance should have listened to his friends, And the time he got what he wanted, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Lance has a plan, M/M, Mistletoe, The Consequences of his tomfoolery, albeit with a little help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17435990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cristina_lore/pseuds/cristina_lore
Summary: Lance has a plan. This plan involves mistletoe and getting Keith under it. The plan works, but - as always - Lance must suffer first.





	So Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> A Christmas fic? In the middle of January? Yes, and you will enjoy it. (Hopefully).

Twas two weeks before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. 

 

Until three thumps sounded on the door.

 

No one answered.

 

Lance sighed. Yeah, he knew it was pretty late, considering he, Hunk, and Pidge all shared an early morning class the next day, but inspiration waited for no one. As soon as he had had his brilliant idea, he needed to enact the first phase right away: shopping.

 

And then, of course, he had gotten distracted with all the other Christmas-y stuff at the mall, and then he had started craving some McDonald’s and well - here he was, thumping on his own door at past midnight, because he had forgotten his house keys again. Maybe he was as much of a disaster as Pidge always claimed he was.

 

He scowled and knocked again. Speaking of Pidge, she was definitely up at this hour, because she was an actual gremlin who never slept and lived off of black coffee, despite how much she hated it. She probably heard him knocking and was making him suffer on purpose.

 

He shivered. Even in California, it could get cold in the winter months. And Lance was always more susceptible to the cold than most people.

 

“Pidge, I know you’re awake!” He rapped on the door again for good measure. “Let me in!”

 

Finally, he heard the sound of the lock being turned and the door swung open. Pidge looked up at him smugly, taking a big gulp from her mug. 

 

“Jesus, Pidge, I could’ve frozen out there!” He hurried in, placing his bags on the couch before whirling around to face his housemate, who was now sitting on the little kitchen island.

 

“Stop being so dramatic, loser. What were you doing out so late, anyway? We have class tomorrow and you sleep like the dead.”

 

Lance could feel a blush darkening his cheeks, and he cursed his inability to be more shameless. Pidge snorted when she caught on, and he turned away in a huff, both to shake off his embarrassment and to show her what he had bought.

 

“For your information, I went on a very important shopping trip. I got all the decorations we like, a new ugly candle for you to put in your room -” Pidge whooped “ - and most importantly…” He pulled the treasured item out of the bag and presented it with a flourish. “I got mistletoe!”

 

Pidge stayed silent. She looked from the mistletoe to Lance, and then back again. Lance raised his eyebrows in question, but before he could voice anything, Pidge burst into laughter. Lance scowled.

 

“I’ll have you know that this is instrumental to my Christmas plans!” Pidge outright wheezed at that.

 

“You - oh God - mistletoe!” She snorted before finally calming down somewhat. She breathed in deeply, exhaled, then smirked at Lance. “You sweet, misguided fool.”

 

“I don’t know how to take that.”

 

“You’re not supposed to.” Seeing his lost expression, Pidge softened. “Hunk will probably explain tomorrow, and when he does, I’ll laugh at you again, and you can throw some fairy lights at me and I’ll inevitably help you find what you need.”

 

“I -” Lance sighed, knowing he would get no more explanation for now. “Yeah, alright, demon child. I give you full permission to push me out of bed in the morning after I refuse to listen to Hunk’s wake up call.”

 

Pidge shrugged. “Didn’t need permission but thanks.”

 

Lance rolled his eyes, but let the subject drop. He had a nightly beauty routine to get to.

 

* * *

 

The next day found Lance humming along to the radio, stifling the urge to shimmy his hips to the Christmas music playing. One - or two, or three - falls off a ladder was enough to teach him that he should keep all dancing to steady ground.

 

He carefully pinned the mistletoe to the doorway of the kitchen, then admired his handiwork. He was a goddamn  _ genius. _ Keith wouldn’t know what hit him.

 

At that moment, the door swung open, and Lance nearly toppled off the ladder in his surprise. Luckily, he managed to catch himself and he scrambled down to greet his housemates instead.

 

“Hunk! You’re finally out of class!” Ok, maybe just to greet one housemate. Not that he didn’t love Pidge, but she would never show the proper enthusiasm for his master plan. Hunk, on the other hand, would.

 

The man in question laughed. “Yeah, I’m out at the same time I’m always out. If you miss me that much, you should have registered for mine and Pidge’s afternoon class.”

 

“And have two classes today instead of one? Never in a million years.” He ignored Hunk’s good-natured eye-rolling, as well as Pidge’s not-so-good-natured snort. “Did Pidge tell you that I have something very important to show you?”

 

“She said I’d have to explain something to you and then wouldn’t say anything else. Which is cruel, by the way.”

 

Lance waved the last comment aside. “You can argue about that later, let me show you. Look!” He pointed to the mistletoe excitedly, nearly bouncing on his toes. When all Hunk did was narrow his eyes and tilt his head, Lance rushed to explain.

 

“So you know how we have that annual Christmas party here, since we’re the only ones with a big enough place to host a party?” He turned to Pidge briefly to say, “Remind me to send my usual thank you card and gift basket to your parents for that.” She nodded, then flopped down onto the couch and put one of the throw pillows over her face.

 

Lance paid her no mind. “At some point during the night, I’m going to very suavely lead Keith under the doorway and very casually be like,  _ Oh look, there’s some mistletoe, better keep with tradition. Just for funsies, of course, _ and boom! I finally get to kiss Keith, and once I charm him with my mouth, he’ll be begging for the chance to be my boyfriend. I, of course, will very graciously accept.” 

 

Lance gave in to the urge to bounce in place as he waited for Hunk’s reaction. “So what do you think? Great plan, right?”

 

Hunk tilted his head further, studying the mistletoe. When it seemed he had looked his fill, he straightened, then turned slowly to look at Lance. “Uh...not to burst your bubble or anything buddy, but -”

 

Lance had started to deflate, but almost immediately regained his composure and said, “Ok, I get that you don’t think it’ll work, and maybe it won’t, but you have to let me try. I’m done being a coward, Hunk, I have to do this.”

 

“And I get that, but -”

 

“I’ve been pining since two Christmases ago, Hunk, I -”

 

“Lance, just -”

 

_ “Please, _ Hunk? Please?” 

 

And looking into Lance’s pleading blue eyes, Hunk couldn’t help but relent. “Alright, bud. You do your thing. Let’s hope it turns out for the best.”

 

_ “Thank you.” _

 

From her place on the couch, Pidge - very heroically - held in the bubbles of laughter that wanted to escape.

 

* * *

 

Lance came bursting in through the door with a bag in hand. Hunk stared at him quizzically. Thirty minutes ago, the two of them had been watching Parks and Rec on Netflix. That is, until Lance had suddenly sat straight up, looked around the living room, and then dashed out the door without so much as a by your leave. A few seconds later, he had come running back in to put on some shoes, grab his wallet and keys, and to shout, “I’ll be right back” on his way out. Hunk, who was vaguely used to this sort of behavior, merely paused the episode and entertained himself on his phone until Lance decided to come back.

 

Lance let himself flop down on the couch before he pulled out what he had just purchased: more mistletoe. Before Hunk could say a word, Lance held up a finger.

 

“Bip bip bip, let me explain. Look around you.” Hunk did, then raised his eyebrows at Lance as if to say,  _ Well? Go on. _

 

Lance huffed. “This living room is lifeless, Hunk! I mean, yeah, we have the decorations up and everything, and the tree is looking really nice, but there’s only  _ one _ sprig of mistletoe. One sad, lonely little sprig. I need more than that! I need as many chances as I can get to try to kiss Keith; you know how dense he can be!”

 

Hunk sighed. “Yeah, I know. But Lance, I really don’t think that -”

 

Lance placed his finger directly over Hunk’s lips this time. “Shhh, my sweet friend. I know you’re just trying to look out for me. But I got this. And besides, Keith is a fan of this sort of stuff. You know, stuff with like, centuries of tradition and history behind it. He probably loves mistletoe.”

 

Hunk pushed away the finger still at his mouth. “He probably does, buddy. He’s a history buff, kind of. But, if you would just listen…you’re not listening.”

 

Hunk was right. Lance was already walking around the living room, plotting out the best places to hang his mistletoe from. 

 

“Ok, I bought five more pieces, so maybe one could go here...but no, that’s too close to the doorway. Too cluttered. Definitely one somewhere in the kitchen, though. Come on, Hunk, help me put these up!”

 

With a resigned sigh, Hunk got up and went to help. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with his attempted explanations, but he might as well make sure that no plant life made its home anywhere near where food would be cooking.

 

* * *

 

The day of the party arrived. Lance woke up early, showered, dressed in his party clothes, realized his nervousness would probably just make him sweat through his nice outfit, and then changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was 7 am.

 

He went for a stroll, and the cool morning air helped calm him down some. He bought three coffees from his favorite coffee shop, then very nearly dropped them when he spotted a red motorcycle a little ways down the block. Just like that, all his nervous energy was back. He opted to keep his head down and hurry back to the house.

 

Luckily for him, Pidge and Hunk were already up by the time he got back. They made appreciative noises over the coffee and ushered him into the kitchen to have breakfast, even though he warned them that it was probably all just going to come back up due to anxiety. They waved off his -  _ very valid _ \- concerns, which he silently pouted over, but in the end, he was forced to admit they were right. The breakfast did not come back up and in fact helped settle his stomach somewhat.

 

The rest of the day was spent dancing to Christmas music, fixing the decorations, pestering Hunk as he made Christmas dinner, fixing the mistletoe, helping Hunk with some of the simpler tasks of dinner, a  _ Brooklyn Nine Nine _ marathon, fixing the mistletoe, and an impromptu sing-off between himself and Pidge, with Hunk as the judge/mediator/self-proclaimed winner when things got a little too heated. Maybe not quite a normal day, but still nothing surprising when it came to the three of them.

 

By the time 6:15 pm rolled around - 45 minutes before guests were due to arrive - Lance had showered once again and was now - along with his housemates - all dolled up. He was going around the room fidgeting with the sprigs of mistletoe, reciting his game plan under his breath. His friends left him to it, but when he started in on his fifth circuit, Pidge apparently couldn’t help herself and started cackling. Lance whirled around to face her.

 

“What are you laughing at? What? What?”

 

Pidge snorted and, through bouts of laughter, said, “You, obviously. You’re all worked up and we’ve - Hunk’s tried to help you but here you are!”

 

“Would it kill you to not be cryptic for once in your life?” Lance asked, brows furrowed. He rubbed his temples as if to ward off an oncoming headache.

 

“I don’t know, it might, so why risk it?” Pidge stuck out her tongue at Lance’s glare. “All I’m saying is, when this blows up in your face, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself. Remember that.” She sniggered a little more.

 

Lance threw his hands up in the air. “I can’t deal with you. Hunk, buddy, what in the fresh hell is she talking about?”

 

Hunk sighed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to  _ tell you. _ It’s your mistletoe dude; it’s not going to work, it’s -”

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

“Actually I’m going to have you hold that thought, but note to yourself: you were being very discouraging and I’m going to gloat when this all goes to plan.” The confident words were belied by the way Lance wiped his hands on his pants and licked his lips before going to open the door.

 

Hunk and Pidge exchanged a look. He grimaced. She grinned.

 

* * *

 

The party was in full swing. Dinner had been eaten as well as dessert, and now everyone was talking, dancing, watching Christmas specials, drinking - the whole shebang. Lance had watched, pleased, as several people were caught under one of the many sprigs of mistletoe and shared a kiss. And now that he had gotten Keith alone - now it was his turn.

 

“Hey, come on over here,” he said, tugging on Keith’s arm.

 

Keith, who had been in the middle of taking a sip of his sweet wine, raised an eyebrow and said, “What. Why.” (Wine tended to turn all of Keith’s words into flat sentences.)

 

Lance rolled his eyes. “I just want to talk over there, that’s all.”   
  


“What’s wrong with here. Nothing is wrong with here. Keep talking here.” Keith took a bigger mouthful of his drink.

 

“Keeeeiiiith. Come on.” Lance pouted at him. “I want to show you something.”

 

“Should have said that,” Keith said with a judgemental look. “Ok, let’s go.”

 

“Thank you, your excellency,” Lance said with a drawl. Keith snorted. Lance turned away and began walking to hide his too-big grin.

 

He led Keith under the mistletoe that was just above the entrance to the little hallway that led to all their rooms. Not that he was planning anything salacious, but if Keith wanted to do a little more making out in private - well, Lance wasn’t going to make life harder for him.

 

They stood at the entrance for a few seconds, neither of them saying anything. Lance took a deep breath, strengthening his resolve, and looked up as casually as he could. With feigned surprise, he said, “Oh hey look. Mistletoe. Guess we have to kiss now.” He threw in an eyebrow waggle and a flirtatious smile for good measure.

 

Keith looked up, and oh God, it was going to happen any moment now - except...apparently not. Because Keith just looked confused, which was really weird. Even Keith should know what the purpose of mistletoe was. Lance was just about to ask him what was wrong - and hopefully get things back on track - when Keith spoke.

 

“That’s not mistletoe. That’s holly.”

 

Lance’s world drew to a screeching halt. For a moment, he simply gaped at Keith, who just looked back at him with a head tilt. It was adorable. Lance could not handle this.

 

And it seemed he wouldn’t have to for the moment, because the sounds of Pidge laughing it up started filtering in, along with Hunk’s exclamations of “Exactly! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

 

Lance took a moment to be grateful that the other guests were occupied and had no idea what was going on, too immersed in the Christmas spirit.

 

And then he screamed.

 

* * *

 

“Rise and shine, buttercup!”

 

The covers were thrown off Lance’s head, and he glared at the small entity that was an overly cheerful Pidge. She just ruffled his hair and walked out of his room, her duty apparently done. Lance starfished on his bed and stared at the ceiling as memories of the previous night filtered in.

 

After his - totally justified,  _ don’t argue with me, Hunk _ \- scream of embarrassment and frustration, which everyone had heard, he had been completely prepared to hide out in his room for the rest of the night. Hunk didn’t let him. While Pidge led a concerned Keith away and directed everyone’s attention to a round of Mario Kart, Hunk had planted a hand on his neck and steered him into one of the bathrooms. He made Lance sit down on the toilet while he leaned against the wall. Lance had groaned and buried his head in his hands. Hunk, ever patient, had simply waited him out.

 

“Is that what you were trying to tell me this whole time?” Lance had finally whispered.

 

“Yeah, buddy. And it’s why Pidge was laughing at you.”

 

“Oh Jesus.” He remembered resisting the urge to draw his legs up until he was a little cocoon. “Uh...can you explain now?”

 

Hunk had huffed out a soft laugh before explaining that yes, Lance had gotten holly instead of mistletoe, and that holly had the distinctive red berries while mistletoe had fuzzy white ones, not to mention the shape of the leaves were different; and that he had been  _ trying _ to inform Lance of these facts because Keith, being a “tradition history nut,” would know the difference and probably be very confused when presented with a “kiss me” scenario. He had concluded with, “And, well. You were there. I was right.”

 

He had grumbled out a “Yeah, I know,” before plaintively asking, “Then why were all the sprigs mixed up at the store?”

 

Hunk had shrugged and gently said, “Probably because most people don’t know the difference anymore. Even if the employees separated them, a lot of people probably mixed them all up later anyway. You just happened to fall for the one guy who would get tripped up on that detail, instead of you know, kissing you regardless.”

 

Lance had whined, but after a few minutes - or maybe it was half an hour, who was really counting? - of Hunk’s Comforting Hugs and Assurances, he had been ready to get back to the party.

 

Unfortunately, he was a sensitive soul, and he couldn’t help but be awkward and tense around Keith. Keith seemed to pick up on this - or maybe he was feeling awkward and confused himself - and had steered clear of Lance for the rest of the night.

 

Which brought Lance to this morning, where he was still in bed, contemplating whether or not he had the will to ever face the outside world again, much less Keith.

 

His contemplation ended when Pidge peeked in again and mock-frowned at him. “Get up, loser, someone’s here to see you.” She disappeared for a moment before entering his room with the mystery guest in tow.

 

Lance really shouldn’t have been surprised that it was Keith.

 

Pidge looked between them and clapped her hands together. “Welp, I’ll leave you two alone.” And she skipped - really, actually  _ skipped, _ that gremlin - out of the room.

 

Lance sighed and stood up, stretching. Might as well get this over with. He walked over to Keith and crossed his arms in a display of nonchalance. He had no idea if it was working, but hey, fake it till you make it. “So...what’s up, man?”

 

Keith bit his lip. Lance took a moment to stare and briefly imagine that it was him biting Keith’s lip. Which, really, was the only explanation for why he was startled by Keith stepping much closer and bringing up a hand over their heads. Lance looked up. Keith was holding a small plant with long, oval-shaped leaves and - were those white berries? Yes, yes they were. He looked back at Keith, not daring to hope, but in a much more real sense, feeling all his hopes and desires reignite.

 

Keith, with a pink tinge to his cheeks, leaned in and whispered, “I brought this so you could have future reference, because apparently you like that corny shit.”

  
Lance would have replied that  _ apparently, _ Keith liked that corny shit too, but his mouth was much more pleasantly occupied.

**Author's Note:**

> Please love me


End file.
